


Bravery Will Follow

by applejackcat



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-22
Updated: 2015-04-22
Packaged: 2018-03-25 04:44:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3797182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/applejackcat/pseuds/applejackcat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Isabelle French strikes up a correspondence with Storybrooke's most infamous recluse. (Set in a non-cursed AU.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bravery Will Follow

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for the 2015 Rumbelle Showdown under the alias Totes Magotes. If you haven't already checked out my fabulous competitors' works, I highly suggest you do so. It's an amazing source of Rumbelle fluff, angst, drama, and smut!

Isabelle begins the correspondence on a self-given dare to do something  _brave_  for once.

When Mr. Gold stops by the shop for their rent, she tucks a folded note into the stack of bills she hands him. Gold considers her fingers, which tremble under his scrutiny, and nods once to her, murmuring, “Until next month, Miss French,” in that lilting Scottish brogue.

She does not calm herself until long after he has climbed into his relic of a car and driven off to his next collection.

 

<><><><><><>

 

Gold discovers the note that evening, a glass of impeccable scotch in one hand, Moe French’s rent in the other. He sits at his desk, and the slip of paper flutters out from between grubby dollars and lands face up.

 _Once upon a time_ , he reads, in a script so delicate and refined that it can only belong to one person.

Isabelle French.

Gold takes a deep swig of scotch and tries very hard not to think about how incandescently wonderful he finds her. He continues to read.

_Once upon a time, a man cloaked himself so thoroughly in loneliness he forgot what it felt like to love another and be loved in return. His solitude became so absolute that he snarled at anyone who drew near to him. The folk in his town called him a beast, for his hair was shaggy, his nails overly long, but one maiden, bold of spirit, saw through his disguise. The maiden could see he only played at being a beast (and rather chewed the scenery, at that). She decided she’d become his friend._

The tale ends like that, half-told and wholly unsatisfying. Gold’s hand flies to the phone on his desk, but Gold instantly reconsiders calling Isabelle. What would he say to her? No, he thinks, grabbing a piece of paper and a pen.

He has a better idea of how to respond.

 

<><><><><><>

 

Days pass.

Isabelle finds it difficult to concentrate on anything but the gnawing disappointment she feels when Gold doesn’t respond. She chastises herself for allowing her hopes, undefined even now, to rise so high.

Then she inevitably returns to moping.

Isabelle pulls herself together in time to volunteer at Storybrooke General.

She may give Dr. Hopper the wrong change, and she may collide with Marco while exiting Granny’s Diner, but Isabelle knows she would feel even worse if she missed reading to the children in the hospital’s pediatric ward. Her spirits lift when the little ones swarm her, books in hand, clamoring for her to choose their story.

Two hours later, Isabelle emerges from the pediatric wing, waving a merry goodbye to the children.

“Ah, Miss French.”

The crispness in Gold’s tone draws her up short, nearly makes her stumble forward into him with its suddenness. When she turns to face him, Isabelle nearly gasps at how closely he stands to her. She realizes she has never been close enough to him to smell him, and now his scent, a mixture of aftershave and spice, fills her to the brim.

Gold’s lips twist into a smirk. He waves a folded piece of paper under her nose. “I believe you dropped this, dearie.” Then, he looks over her shoulder. “Ah, Dr. Whale. I do hope you have what you owe me.”

He slips Isabelle the note before striding off towards the sputtering doctor, who obviously didn’t expect Gold to collect his rent personally. Pleasure courses through Isabelle as she wonders if Gold came to Storybrooke General specifically to find her.

Her fingers shake so much that she must take care not to rip Gold’s note as she unfolds it.

 _Once upon a time_ , Isabelle reads,  _a mouthy young maiden decided to lock horns with her town’s beast. She mistook her beauty and her limpid blue eyes for a shield and a sword. The beast took one second to look at her and three to devour her whole. She tasted delicious. Fin._

_P.S. And **that**  is how you end a story, dearie._

_P.P.S. I take great pride in how well I maintain my nails. How rude of you to imply otherwise._

Isabelle cannot keep a delighted grin from exploding across her face. She barely contains the whoop of excitement that builds somewhere deep in her chest and (more tellingly) in her heart. She remembers something her beloved mama once told her, the very piece of advice that spurred her to write to Gold in the first place.

_Do the brave thing, and bravery will follow._

Now Isabelle finds she has bravery in spades.

 

<><><><><><>

 

Gold prides himself on his mastery of words both spoken and written.

And yet, in his eagerness to put Isabelle French in her place, he has unwittingly hung himself with a noose fashioned from his own innuendo. It would have pained him enough to have Isabelle respond to his story with disgust at his misstep. But if the letter he now holds indicates anything to Gold, it is that the young florist welcomes his advances – and that prospect downright  _terrifies_  Gold.

Still, he cannot bring himself to destroy Isabelle’s response and be rid of this foolishness.

_Once upon a time, a man who pretended to be a beast overreacted and partook in some hasty cannibalism (as the best of us do, from time to time), devouring the young maiden who wanted only to be his friend. Luckily, man swallowed her whole, and the maiden was a mouthy one. She sang and hollered and spoke all day long, which disrupted the man’s digestion and caused him to reconsider eating her in the first place. Besides, he found he wanted to gaze into her limpid blue eyes again. The man promptly regurgitated her, and the pair quickly became the best of friends. FIN!_

_P.S. Would you really like to devour me? You think I’d be delicious? My, my, Mr. Gold._

_P.P.S. Before issuing an apology, I must personally inspect your nails. This would require us to be in close proximity to one another. Please refer to my previous postscript to understand my concerns about such a venture._

The way Gold sees it, he has two options. He can exercise his better judgement and destroy Isabelle’s letter. Or he can say bollocks to caution and strike up the oddest sort of correspondence with a young woman for whom, he admits, he has long held a blazing candle.

He pours himself another glass of scotch and reaches for a pen and some paper.

 

<><><><><><>

 

The letters fly fast and furious after that. Isabelle and Gold rarely speak directly but find all manner of creative ways to slip one another their notes, always written as short fairy tales, always bubbling with flirtation (from Isabelle) and churlish charm (from Gold).

For Gold, Isabelle’s correspondence awakens in him a passion which he’d thought his first marriage destroyed. He pours more and more of himself into each note, and he revels in what he learns about her. Isabelle wants more than anything to have an adventure, and he swears to himself he will let her go when she decides to embark upon one and leave behind their fantasies for more exciting ventures.

Still, the end comes with agonizing swiftness. One evening Gold sits at his desk, a glass of scotch in one hand and Isabelle’s latest letter in the other.

His heart shatters when he opens it and reads the first line.

_Once upon a time, a young maiden grew tired of letters and of written words that could not possibly convey the depths of her emotions._

Still, Gold forces himself to finish.

_She decided she would no longer write to her ‘beast.’ Instead, she decided to go to their town’s favorite eatery the day after giving him her final letter. She would wait for the beast that was really a man, the ruthless dealmaker who had in fact become her closest friend. When he arrived, if he arrived, they would embark upon a proper date and revel in their incredible with and scintillating rapport. Fin._

_P.S. I know you don’t leave your lair often. Granny’s Diner happens to be Storybrooke’s favorite eatery._

_P.P.S. All of the best fairy tales end with a breathtaking kiss. In case there was any confusion about my intentions towards you._

_P.P.P.S. Please come. I’ve a feeling we’d be fabulous. See you at half-past six._

 

<><><><><><>

 

Gold arrives at Granny’s a half-hour early. He clutches a bouquet that might seem utterly random to a stranger – coral roses, ivy, hibiscus, carnations, daffodils – but which he hopes will make perfect sense to a florist’s daughter.

When Isabelle arrives, it is difficult to tell whose smile is more radiant, who shakes more when they reach each other.

What’s certain is that the next day, everyone in Storybrooke gossips about how Isabelle greeted Gold with a bold, passionate kiss and murmured, “On second thought, our fairy tale should  _begin_  with a breathtaking kiss.”


End file.
